


And I Think it's Gonna be A Long Long Time

by elounarry



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Dancing, Happy Ending, Keith is 18 in this fic, M/M, Slow Dancing, Some angst, but it gets resolved, pre-kerb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-19 10:41:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16533005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elounarry/pseuds/elounarry
Summary: The annual Galaxy Garrison Gala has arrived and Keith is less than thrilled about it. The idea of being crammed in a room full of people he barely talks to sounds just about the worst way he could spend his night. He surprises himself by going, but seeing Shiro in his dress uniform makes up for any qualms he has, and Shiro has a surprise of his own.





	And I Think it's Gonna be A Long Long Time

_Galaxy Garrison Annual Gala_

_The Galaxy Garrison will be holding its annual gala—_

Keith tears down the paper taped to his door with a groan, not bothering to read the rest of the flyer. He knows what’s on it and is less than thrilled to have yet another reminder shoved in his face. He had purposefully skipped out on it the year before, not wanting to put himself in the position of being alienated by his peers anymore than he already was. There wasn’t a single person he had wanted to ask last year and no one had asked him, there was no point.

This year will be the same. Keith isn’t exactly in high demand for friendships or dates, except for that kid Terrance Marshall who seems more interested in what’s in his pants than anything. As for anyone Keith himself wants to ask, a certain smile comes to mind. One that has managed to work its way past his defenses and destroy his walls he worked so tirelessly to build.

“You going?” The sudden voice startles Keith, who does his best to hide his jerk. A slow building heat works its way to his cheeks as the very smile he just imagined is right in front of him and blindingly huge. Keith does his best to clear his throat.

“Probably not. I didn’t go last year, no need to go this year.” He crumples up the flyer for emphasis and uses his card key to open the door to his dorm and steps inside. Shiro is right behind him and doesn’t hesitate to invite himself in, sitting comfortably at Keith’s desk like he’s done it a million time. Keith won’t admit it, but he’s found that he enjoys when Shiro, whose appearance is simultaneously uptight and congenial, can relax in his presence and not have to worry about regs and protocols. As long as Keith’s roommate isn’t there, his room is a bit of a safe haven away from officers and other senior cadets who want something or another from the garrison’s golden boy. Keith sits at the end of his bed close to his desk and drops the crumpled up paper into his waste basket. Shiro goes for it and unfolds it, placing it on the desk.

Keith raises an eyebrow. “What are you doing? I don’t want that.”

“Why don’t you want to go?” Shiro’s being earnest, but Keith can’t help but scoff.

“Because no one wants to ask me and I don’t want to ask anyone. Besides, no one would care if I was there anyway.”

“I think someone would care,” Shiro says, and it’s soft in a way that makes Keith believe that someone would care, but he shoves that thought away and changes the direction of the conversation.

“What about you? You going?” He asks as he adjusts himself on his bed to sit against the wall.

Shiro hums in response and leans back in the chair. “Yeah, I’m kind of obligated to go. It’s not too bad, though. Shake some hands of important people, drink some punch, maybe dance a little. It doesn’t really change.”

“Sounds boring,” Keith blurts out. Shiro barks out a laugh that has his insides twisting and he fiddles with the bedspread.

“Really, the gala isn’t that bad. The after party, on the other hand, gets crazy.”

Keith's heard stories of the infamous after parties and he tries to imagine Shiro letting loose and drinking copious amounts of alcohol while dancing to some sort of trap music or EDM. Jacket off, shirt unbuttoned, and sweaty with movement and uncontained joy. That’s a Shiro he’s not opposed to seeing.

“I can’t really imagine that,” Keith says instead. 

“You haven’t seen me party then.” There’s so much mirth and teasing in Shiro’s eyes and smile that Keith almost hides his face in his hands. He laughs to cover up the sudden nervousness that threatens to overtake him and hopes his face isn’t as red as it feels. He needs to get himself together.

“Plus,” Shiro starts, “dress code is dress uniforms which means everyone looks their best.” He holds up the flyer again with his finger pointing to where the black font reads _Dress uniforms required_.

“Even worse! Who wants to do that?”

Shiro sighs heavily, playful, then balls it back up and throws it in the trash for good. “You aren’t easy to please.”

“I can be pleased. It just depends,” Keith almost huffs and crosses his arms. He’s not sure if they’re teasing each other but he’s enjoying himself nonetheless.

“On?” Shiro pushes.

“I don’t know, a lot of things...” His voice softens at the end, a sudden blanket of insecurity falling over him. When it comes to “being pleased” it usually involves Shiro in some form of another. Form sparring in the gym to eating their lunches together. Casual conversations like this are new to Keith but he found himself receptive to them the more Shiro talked to him, enjoyed their easy back and forth and Shiro’s patience when he found his emotions getting the best of him. Shiro makes time for him and listens to him and lifts Keith’s spirits when he’s committed to being in a bad mood. It dawns on him that a lot of his happiness has revolved around Shiro in the last year. All his smiling and laughing were rarely directed towards anyone other than the older officer who managed to pique his interest. Keith feels hot and cold all over as all the little details he’s filed away about Shiro rise to the surface of his memory, realization hitting him that he’s the only one that’s made Keith feel secure and—

Keith pops off the bed and onto his feet with abrupt momentum, not bothering to acknowledge Shiro and the obvious concern on his face. “I just remembered I have a paper to write. So…I’m gonna do that.” It’s the lamest excuse but it’s the only one he can think of on the spot. He’s never been a good liar, especially when it comes to Shiro, but Keith’s on the verge of a break down and needs the reason for said break down out of his immediate vicinity.

“Oh. Okay.” Shiro stands from his place at the desk but doesn’t make for the door. His rigid expression is much more prominent as Shiro stares him down, eyes boring in to him knowingly. Shiro sees right through him, knows something is wrong, but being Shiro he won’t say anything. He ends the silent interrogation with, “See you later then,” and exits out of Keith’s room.

Keith steps forward and opens his mouth to call out, but nothing happens. He can’t bring himself to involve Shiro and have him witness his mess of emotions. He’s in a spacious room where everything he feels, everything he puts out only reverberates back on to him, going nowhere with no outlet. Shiro told Keith once that he was a walking contradiction. How he wore his heart on his sleeve but was still so reserved. How he was caring and compassionate yet aggressive in nature. Keith didn’t quite understand it then, he still doesn’t understand it now, but it still threw him for a loop to be told he was so transparent. It doesn’t fully surprise him for something like that to come from Shiro, who always picks up on Keith’s feelings and moods when everyone else around him is intent on poking and prodding him until he explodes.

Keith flops on the bed with an exasperated sigh. His thoughts are confusing and conflicting with his emotions: what is Shiro to him? Shiro, who took him under his wing when he was abandoned by those who should’ve helped protect him. Shiro, who eased Keith out of his well of anger and sadness instead of mocking him for his weakness. Shiro, who allows Keith to be himself even when he’s acting like a petulant child and doesn’t turn the other cheek. Keith’s eyes burn with unshed tears, overwhelmed and unable to keep up with his thought process, equally terrified by what it means to have someone so close possibly mean so much more.

Keith throws himself back into a sitting position and wipes furiously at his eyes. He wouldn’t let these stupid feelings get the best of him. Shiro’s far too important to be chased away by something like this and deserves someone who isn’t weepy and vehement. He’ll figure it out, he just doesn’t know how.

\---

It’s everything Keith hates about social events and he can’t believe he talked himself into it. He wants to run his hand through his hair out of habit but remembers that he tied it up to keep it out of his face. The P’eng Hall has always been large and beautiful in Keith’s eyes and he can’t deny the blue, purple, and white lights accentuate the tall pillers and high, arching ceiling. They line the balcony that wraps around the inside of the building and brings an attractive glow to the room. That’s where his praise ends and all that’s left is the overcrowding of cadets and officers mingling about and talking over whatever shitty pop song is playing.

He takes a deep breath and decides to walk along the back wall to get to the drink table. Less people and easier to ignore the sideways glances he’s receiving. Once at the table he’s greeted with water, snacks, and various types of juices with labels in front of them. He decides on fruits punch and pours himself a cup, doing his best not to make a snide comment at the instructor overlooking the table and watching him intently. He can’t tell if he’s just doing his job to make sure no one spikes the punch or if it’s really that surprising that Keith came to this thing. He glances around at all the happy and giddy faces, some he recognizes from his classes and some he’s never seen before, or at least hasn’t paid enough attention to to recognize them. He tries to not be disappointed that a certain face hasn’t stood out yet.

“Ahhh Kogane! You did come!” Keith holds back audible displeasure and turns around to see Terrance Marshall standing behind him with a look of distress on his admittingly handsome face. He’s tall and almost built like Shiro, except much leaner in his muscle mass. His body type fits well in the nicely cut dress uniforms, slicked back blonde hair completing the classic military look.

“Um, yeah, I decided to come,” Keith says as he sips his punch and starts walking away from the table. Marshall keeps in step beside him.

“But I asked you to go, like, last week and you said you weren’t going.” He rounds in front of Keith forcing him to a halt. Keith feels frustration starting to flare up but holds himself back.

“I didn’t want to go, but then decided I did.”

“But you didn’t want to go with me?” Marshall sounds disappointed and Keith can feel his face contort into a look of confusion.

“I wasn’t planning on going with anyone. Why would you want to go with me?” Keith asks.

Marshall doesn’t respond at first, bewilderment clear on his face. He looks around his surroundings before leaning in. “I do like you, Keith. And after that one time together I thought I could get to know you more.” He waggles his eyebrows at his own suggestion.

Keith has a moment of processing before he understands what Marshall is saying and almost chokes on air. He whispers right back, “We made out one time and I told you that I wasn’t looking for anything more. I thought you just wanted to get in my pants.”

“I mean, yeah, but in a meaningful way.” His words are accompanied with an up-tilt of his chin and prideful smirk. Keith lets the words and meaning wash over him for a moment, going over his memories with the other boy and trying to pinpoint any time the older cadet had indicated he’d wanted more. The make out session had been unexpected and suggested by Marshall, which Keith only agreed to out of pure curiosity, but wanting something more? Sex jokes and borderline harassment didn’t count in Keith’s eyes and he finds himself getting irritated again that this 20-something grown adult couldn’t ask Keith out like a normal person. He would’ve rejected him still, but at least he could’ve turned him down properly and not have to deal with this awkward ass-backwards confession. Smug bastard.

“Keith!”

The blow off comment on Keith’s tongue is cut short as his eyes go over Marshall’s shoulder to see Shiro waving and B-lining towards him. Keith can’t help the _oh thank goodness_ that goes through his head at seeing the familiar face, but his thoughts go promptly blank as he takes in Shiro wearing the uniform. Marshall may have looked good but Shiro’s body was made for it; all angles in the sharp cut of his jacket, tie perfectly knotted, and seam pressed into the pants with precision, somehow managing to appear both taller and more handsome than he already is. It’s been almost two weeks since he’s really seen and spent time with Shiro and Keith’s mouth is suddenly on par with the Sahara desert. 

“Oh. I get it. Of course,” Marshall sneers at Keith before brushing past him. His sudden aggressiveness takes Keith by surprise. Of course what? He doesn’t dwell on it any longer as Shiro sidles up next to him cautiously.

“Is everything okay? Did I interrupt something?” Shiro asks.

Keith clears his throat. “No. It doesn’t matter.”

“Right. Well, I have to say I’m surprised you came, especially after you were so adamant about not coming.” The smile that plays on Shiro’s lips is teasing and Keith has no control over the flips his stomach performs at it.

“I had nothing better to do, so I thought I’d come to see if it really was all it’s cracked up to be.”

“And?”

“It’s lame.”

Shiro’s boisterous laughs attracts the attention of several other cadets around them and Keith can’t blame them. It’s a rare sight to see Shiro openly express himself, even more so in such a public setting. His stomach does more flips.

Shiro gathers himself and directs them away from the table and, thankfully, the dance floor. “How long have you been here?”

“Hmm, about 15 minutes.” Keith’s hasn’t stopped checking his phone since he walked in the room.

“15 minutes? That’s hardly enough time to experience it.”

“Enough time for me to decide it’s lame. Probably gonna head out,” Keith counters and crosses his arms. It’s mostly for show, but it’s also something to do with his hands. He finds himself fidgeting at the way Shiro laughs and smiles at him, overcome with how much he’s missed having Shiro around this last couple weeks.

“I’ll join you then. Not much going for me anyway.” Shiro’s mouth opens as if to say something else but stops. He gives his surroundings a quick glance before nodding his head towards the exit, then walking that direction. Keith’s stunned momentarily, but then follows him out. Instant relief washes over him as the cool night air blows over his heated skin. He pulls at his collar in a way that only allows a small amount of soothing air to enter, but Keith will take anything he can get.

“Let’s go this way.” Keith’s sight follows where Shiro’s pointing and sees the dorms in his line of sight. 

“Aren’t they going to notice you’re gone?” Keith questions.

Shiro rolls his eyes and scoffs. “Hardly. A cardboard cut out would work just as well.”

A small laugh bubbles out of Keith and he walks in the direction of the familiar pathway.

“Weren’t you supposed to be introduced to some Garrison big wigs tonight?” Keith asks, tone conversational, but his curiosity for why Shiro would leave the gala early is piquing.

“I did, on arrival. Said the appropriate pleasantries, made the right comments. I guess they like me enough.” Shiro turns to him, smile facetious and luminous.

Keith swallows. “And the after party?”

Shiro’s expression slowly folds into something serious and contemplative, the kind of look he’s only seen during training sims and intense situations. The only difference Keith sees now is the uncertainty that’s carved its way into his features, revealing to Keith a person that has too much on his mind. Keith can relate.

“Don’t have much interest in the after party this year.” There’s a punctuating silence that follows Shiro’s soft statement. 

“Is everything all right?” Keith ventures. He’s almost too scared to ask, but a pit sits in his stomach at the idea that something is weighing Shiro down.

Shiro sighs, a soft breath that Keith almost feels. “Well…I guess just wanted ask if everything was okay with you?”

Keith almost recoils. “Okay? I-I’m fine. Do I not seem fine?”

“Just the last couple weeks you’ve been distant and saying that ‘you’re not feeling well’ and holing yourself up in your dorm. I haven’t seen you at the gym and you turn me down when I ask. Did I do something wrong?” The hurt that crosses Shiro’s face is enough for guilt to overcome Keith. He doesn’t think when he does it, but his hands are immediately on either side of Shiro’s biceps, squeezing and holding him firm. The “No!” that flies out of his mouth startles the both of them and Keith’s drawn out of his rabid impulse, hastily taking back his arms and hugging himself. If Keith could kick his own ass, he would. His newly discovered feelings had left him unsure and vulnerable. Shiro had told him he was easy to read, so Keith did what he thought was best and distanced himself to make sure Shiro couldn’t see the romantic feelings that were bubbling up.

It was all so decieving. Trying to put a bandaid on a gaping wound seemed like the obvious choice but it was clearly backfiring on him. Of course Shiro noticed. Keith should’ve seen it before, but his desperation got the best of him and it’s only now that he’s realizing how awful it was of him to take his insecurities out on Shiro. This was far from figuring it out.

 _“Oh. I get it. Of course.”_ Marshall’s voice rings in his head and it hits him hard exactly what he meant. Fuck. He really is transparent. Maybe not too transparent as Shiro waits patiently for Keith to delve into why he’s been avoiding him, hopeful and open. Keith can hardly take it. It’s not scrutinizing and he almost wishes it were. He can deflect disdainful attitudes, but Shiro’s eager face has him waring with himself.

“I-” he falters, then takes a deep breath, “I’ve been having a hard time dealing with some things lately, and I didn’t want to bother you with them.” It’s a cop out, but he’s not completely lying. This is safe.

“You know I’d never see it that way, right?”

“I know.” Keith bites his lip. “It’s just something I’ve been having a hard time putting into words. It hasn’t been easy for me.”

“I can help you find the right words if you want. You shouldn’t be holding all those feelings in.”

Keith can feel the tell-tale signs of his irritation. It’s unwarranted, Shiro’s only offering his kindness, the same as he’s always done, but this topic is hardly up for discussion as it would involve Keith admitting to romantic feelings for his best friend _to_ his best friend. It comes out before he can think what he’s saying. “Says the guy who barely shares his own feelings. It’s like pulling teeth for you.”

Shiro sputters, “Wha-I-it’s not-” He stops to gather himself and takes a breath. “I’m just wanting to make sure you’re okay, Keith. You always pull away when something’s wrong. Please don’t pull away from me.”

Something sharp strikes Keith’s heart at that. Gone is the quick irritability and replaced with it is a roaring flood of emotions, exalted by the honesty in Shiro’s voice and Keith’s never ending gratitude for this man’s presence in his life. A silence dwells with enduring elasticity, drawn out between the two of them as if waiting the other out. Keith can’t form any words in a proper response, not trusting anything either helpful or coherent to come out of his mouth.

It’s Shiro’s exhausted sigh that breaks the heavy silence. He looks at the ground. “I didn’t bring you out here to argue. Honestly, I didn’t even bring you out here to ask about it. I just saw an opportunity so I took it. I’m sorry.”

Guilt eats away at Keith again for the second time that night, adding to his already emotionally compromised state. He works to reel himself in, reminding himself to stay present and to think with a clear mind. It’s painfully fitting that it’s Shiro’s voice in his head that he listens to to get there. But it’s a wake up call. He really needs to stop letting his emotions get the better of him. “No. I’m sorry. You’re just being…a good friend, and I got defensive. You don’t deserve that.”

Shiro smiles so softly at him he has to look away. A good friend. It hurts more than he’d like to admit.

“What were we doing again?” Keith asks, steering the conversation elsewhere.

“This way.” Is all Shiro offers as they continue on their original path in the direction of the dorms. Shiro doesn’t mention that Keith never opened up about what was wrong, probably deciding it was better to let this one rest for the night. Keith is grateful. But now there’s a silence between them that Keith can’t tell is awkward or if he’s the only one feeling awkward. Shiro doesn’t seem bothered, expression rested and neutral. The hallways of the dorms are empty, most people at the gala and Keith’s thankful for that. They stop at Shiro’s room and enter inside. Keith raises a questioning eyebrow. 

“What’s here? Did you just want to hang?”

Shiro’s previously rested features were now pinched into something nervous looking. And was he blushing?

Shiro sighs. “I have a confession to make. But I don’t know if it’s the right time now...” He trails off, looking anywhere but seemingly Keith.

Keith gets an idea, and draws in a shaky breath. “If you tell me your confession I’ll—I’ll tell you mine.”

Shiro looks pleased at that, a smile drawing on his face. “Okay,” He says. He walks over to where a plug-in attached to a string of Christmas lights hangs and sticks it in the outlet, a spectrum of color lighting up the room from where they run along the walls. Shiro then walks over to the where the light switch is and turns it off. The colors stand out even more, a pleasant aura settling in as Keith tries to make sense of it. He can feel the knots and twists in his stomach, nerves prickling as the lighting sets a magnetic mood, pulling Keith’s emotions and directing them towards Shiro, his ever present north. It soft and intimate and Keith doesn’t want to believe his own instincts that this was happening. He’s snapped out of his daze when he hears music starting up, a song he immediately recognizes and has to stop himself from getting emotional over it.

“Keith,” Shiro speaks over the song. He’s looking directly at him, unsure but still putting himself out there. “I had wanted to ask you to the gala.” Keith’s eyes widen. “But I was too nervous. And then you said you didn’t want to go so I just figured it was whatever. Then I saw you at the gala and I wanted to ask you to dance, but then you said it was lame.” Shiro laughs in amusement and Keith can’t help but feel sheepish that he’d been inadvertently shooting down Shiro’s plans.

“So I thought I’d bring you up here and I could you ask you for a dance in private.” He finishes by extending his hand, palm up and open. Keith reaches out before he knows he’s doing it, inhaling sharply when Shiro’s arm goes around his waist and pulls them together.

Keith swallows heavily. “I don’t know how to dance.” He’s never been this close to anyone and it’s intimidating the way Shiro towers over him, light casting soft shadows on his face reflecting off his grey eyes.

“It’s okay. We’ll go slow.” Shiro assures him and Keith goes warm all over. He can’t bring himself to look at Shiro any longer and lays his head on Shiro’s chest instead as they move to the music, small steps making it so he can keep up. He’s overwhelmed and so blindsided with a mixture of joy and confusion, trying to piece everything together in his head. Shiro likes him, like, _like_ likes him. In all his desperate attempts to squash down his feelings it never once occurred to him that Shiro liking him back was even an option. It was too far off, too absurd to even consider. He didn’t entertain the idea to save himself from what he thought was going to be obvious heartbreak. Transparent _and_ oblivious. He was on a roll.

“I have a confession too,” Keith starts, remembering his deal. He can feel Shiro lift his own head from where it was resting on Keith’s. “The reason I was avoiding you was because I was falling for you and realizing what it meant. I was scared you would notice and I would scare you off. I’m sorry.”

Their swaying comes to a halt and the hand that was holding Keith’s comes up to his chin and holds his head in place. Keith shivers at the proximity and the fond stare Shiro’s directing towards him.

“I can see why you were so adamant about not opening up now. We’re both kind of messes, aren’t we?” Shiro’s smile is so blinding, Keith feels like he’s been dropped off a cliff and thrown into roaring tides. He can’t hear himself think, he’s running purely on instinct and that’s how he finds himself on his toes and tilting his head up, chasing Shiro’s smile with his own lips. Shiro makes a small sound then moves his hand from Keith’s chin to the back of his neck, angling his head. It lingers for a few seconds more before they break off. Keith’s one hundred percent sure he has the dopiest smile on his face, but so does Shiro, so he doesn’t try and rid of it.

“Nice music selection, by the way. Didn’t know you liked Elton John,” Keith remarks.

“You know Elton John?” Shiro asks, surprised.

“Yeah.” Keith averts his eyes. “My dad had his greatest hits record passed down from his great-grandfather. Used to play it all the time.”

“Well, it’s nice to know you have great music taste,” Shiro says.

“Nice to know you’re a sap. Only you would play a song about going to space and slow dance to it,” Keith shoots back.

“I am a sap and you’re just going to have to get used to it.” Shiro chuckles before reserving his features, taking pause. “You are right though. I think I need to start opening up more. It’s not fair of me to ask something of you if I can’t do it myself.”

“We’ll work on it together,” Keith says.

“Together.”

_And I think it's gonna be a long, long time_

_'Till touch down brings me round again to find_

_I'm not the man they think I am at home_

_Oh no, no, no, I'm a rocket man_

_Rocket man burning out his fuse up here alone_

**Author's Note:**

> I wish I could write fic in a timely manner. I had most of this written before even S6 aired so I was under the impression students at the Garrison were older, so Keith is about 18 in this fic. Title comes from Rocket Man by Elton, the inspiration for this fic. I kept imagining them dancing to this and I realized I myself haven't read any fic where the Garrison had a school dance of sorts so this is the result haha also a little ominous nod to what's going to happen to Shiro <__< >__>
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this! If you liked this comments would be greatly appreciated :D


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